Seetam's Assassin
by CelticWarriorMoon
Summary: First, he took her identity. Secondly, he took her freedom. Thirdly, he took her womanhood... When Sergeant Calhoun is taken prisoner by Seetam, a malicious dragon, to be trained by him as his own elite assassin, she knows it won't be all good... Basically just focuses on my favourite WiR character and my favourite OC. Please read and review! *RATED M FOR GOOD REASONS*


Seetam's Assassin

Chapter 1

It was a dull throbbing sensation in my head that gradually, ever so gradually, brought me to my senses, after what felt like hours of being unconscious. Groggily, I opened my eyes just a little, expecting to see either the barren, hostile, doom-and-gloom landscape of Hero's Duty, or the starry-skied and altogether-more-cheerful landscape of Niceland. The sight that greeted me, though, turned out to be completely different.

My eyes shot wide open when I realised that I did not recognise where I currently was. As soon as my eyes had properly adjusted to the gloom that enveloped my current location, I could make out that I appeared to be in some sort of laboratory. I started to feel a little apprehensive. I had enough sense to know that, even though there was no shortage of laboratories or research facilities in Hero's Duty, that this place was not one of them. No, this place looked far more sinister, although the reason for that, I did not yet know.

I did know one thing, though – I had to try and escape from this place.

Deciding to do just that, I tried to move from my current position, only to find that I was tied – rather tightly, it seemed – to a chair in the middle of the large, unfamiliar room. So _that _was why I couldn't move. I started to panic. If I was tied down to anything, the outcome wasn't bound to be good.

Whatever the outcome was, anyway.

"Can someone please explain to me why the _fun_ I'm here?" I yelled out into the darkness, not really expecting a reply, but hoping that if anyone _did_ hear me, they would help me find a way to escape this damn place.

All the same, I was shocked to get a reply.

"Oh, we'll get to that, I assure you," I heard someone (something, possibly?) say, in a menacingly low purr. I looked around me, startled at the sound, and saw what looked like a large reptilian shape standing in the shadows that surrounded me.

"Who – and _what – _are you?" I asked bravely. I had no idea what the strange creature was, but all the same, I wasn't sure I was going to like the answer.

The reptile-thing presently emerged from where it (he?) was lurking, and stepped out in front of me, where I had a better view. I couldn't help gasping in shock. The _thing_ that was holding me captive here turned out to be a blue, bipedal dragon, of around the same height as me, if not slightly taller. He had sharp, sandy-brown horns and piercing yellow slit-pupilled eyes, whose gaze was fixed on my own, and a gold amulet, in which a deep ruby-red stone was set, hung from his neck. I swallowed slightly. I felt sure that this dragon planned to do things to me that I would most likely _not _enjoy.

The blue dragon walked casually over to where I was strapped down, helplessly, to the chair, and fixed his bright yellow eyes on my own, making me inadvertently turn my head away slightly.

"Let me introduce myself," he purred. "I am Seetam, Lord of All Darkness, Ruler of All That Is Evil, Master of – well, you get the picture, I'm sure."

Darkness? Evil? I wasn't sure I liked the sound of those words.

Straining a little against the ropes that held me tightly down to the chair, I asked, through clenched teeth, "What do you _want_ with me? And why am I _here?_"

Seetam, moving closer to me, cupped his clawed hand around my face, and turned my head so that I was once again looking him in the eye. I shuddered involuntarily. I really hated the feel of his sharp claws and cold, rough scales on my face.

"I have chosen you," the dragon casually replied, "chosen you to be trained, by none other than me, as an elite assassin."

An elite assassin?

"But why-" I started, but I was swiftly silenced by Seetam placing a clawed finger over my lips.

"No questions, my dear Tamora," the dragon said to me.

Inwardly, I was shocked. How did Seetam know my name? And my first name, at that? I wouldn't have been at all surprised if he had known my last name, as that was what I was formally known as most of the time. But my first name, I treated like a big secret, only given to people I loved and trusted.

But I certainly _didn't_ love or trust this guy. I knew that much already.

Seetam, unaware of my astonishment, continued, "I have seen how handy you are with weaponry, and experienced first-hand your drive for killing anything you feel it's neccessary to destroy, like those cy-bugs you're always trying so hard to vanquish. Yes, there's no doubt that you're the one I need, alright."

Seetam removed his hand from my face, allowing me to ask, sounding somewhat annoyed as I did so, "How do you know so much about me?"

"I know everything there is to know about everyone, _every single living creature_ on this planet," Seetam purred. "Well, everything _worth_ knowing, at least."

Okay. That was scary.

A bit _too_ scary.

"I'll never work for you. _Never!_" I growled at Seetam, straining against the strong ropes that held me to the chair. "You're nothing but a _creep! _A _psychopath!_"

A look of rage flickered across the dragon's piercing yellow eyes, but it vanished almost as soon as it appeared.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll think differently once I'm finished with you," Seetam said, ominously.

That was enough to make me feel a bit apprehensive.

"What do you mean?" I asked, a little nervously.

"Oh yes," Seetam said quietly, more to himself than anybody else. "I forgot to mention the rules and regulations you shall have to follow. Well. Firstly, this-" the dragon ran his clawed hand through my thick blonde hair, which I couldn't stand - "-must be sheared off."

The dragon withdrew his hand from my hair, and said quietly, "Pity about that, actually. As much as it shames me to say so, you're really quite beautiful."

He really thought that?

For the love of Mod, _really?_

"I don't care. It happened to me before," I growled at Seetam. "Just get on with it."

That bit was true, actually. When I first joined the Space Marines, I looked very different. That isn't to say, however, that rigorous training exercises and being disciplined in the ways of a soldier didn't change me, either. My once-long blonde hair that practically touched my waist had been replaced with – well, _none_, I suppose you could say, my already-quite-fit body had been replaced with a stick-thin and virtually supermodel-sized one, and my average-teen-girl muscle volume had probably more than doubled. In short, I had become what the Space Marine Force had wanted me to become – a strong, determined, fearless warrior, prepared to take on any adversary, however big or small.

But I really couldn't stand this creep saying these things about me.

However, I figured I should probably have listened to what this maniac had to say, anyway.

So I just listened to Seetam as he continued, "Secondly, you must be branded with my mark, to show that you're my official property. And thirdly-" he broke off to place his hand on my (thankfully clothed) chest, which I _definitely_ couldn't stand, "-all your appeal to the opposite sex must be taken away, to ensure that no man can steal your heart and prevent you from returning to me. This entails the full removal of both your breasts and ovaries." The dragon removed his hand from me and gave me a wicked smile.

Personally, at this point I was starting to feel a little – no, _very_ – creeped out. Branded? His property? And, most of all, full removal of – I didn't like to think about that part for the moment.

"But-" I protested, but I was cut off by Seetam placing his hand over my mouth.

"I _don't_ want to hear it," the dragon growled, before cutting through the ropes that bound me securely to the chair. "We've wasted enough time already just talking. I've got things to do."

I was pretty sure that I knew exactly what sort of "things" he was talking about, and I already knew that I didn't like the idea of them.

_Especially_ the last part.

After Seetam had cut through the final bond, I practically leapt off the chair and made to run off, and try and find a way to escape, but the dragon was quicker than I was. As soon as I had got off the chair, I was held back by Seetam grabbing me by the wrist and growling, "Oh no you _don't_."

"Crap," I thought somewhat angrily to myself. But I figured I couldn't kid myself, really. Escape from this already-horrible place was probably impossible, the way I saw things at that moment.

"That sort of behaviour is _not_ the sort I'd like to see," Seetam said to me, sounding very cross, as he used some of the rope that, just a few seconds ago, held me to the chair in the middle of the room, to tie both of my hands behind my back. "From now on, even though you are not yet branded as so, you belong to me. You are_ not _to try to escape, you hear me?!"

What could I say in reply? Nothing, really. So I just nodded obediently. I figured that, however malicious this psycho's intentions were, allowing whatever was to happen to me to just go ahead would probably give me a better chance of escaping later.

If I made it out of here alive.

I could sense that there was a strong possibility that that wouldn't be very likely. But I had one thing to guide me: determination.

I was snapped out of these thoughts by Seetam barking at me, "Come along then! _Move it!_" He roughly tugged at my arm, forcing me along with him as he started walking. What could I do but keep my head down and allow myself to be led into the next room?

After what felt like only a few seconds (this place must have been somewhat smaller than I previously thought), I realised that I was no longer being brusquely pulled along. I looked up, and took in my surroundings. This room looked very different to the one I had spent the last while being held captive in. It was a little more brightly lit, and was a lot smaller, with white walls and grey flooring and shelving.

However, just as I was looking around, I was stopped from observing any more little details about the room by Seetam's hand on my head, roughly forcing it forward. I knew what he was about to do, but I didn't want to complain, if it meant that I ran the risk of being severely punished. Instead, I just kept my head down, staring at the harsh, grey, metallic floor.

Seetam, still keeping a such a firm grip on my arm that it almost physically hurt, reached over and picked up something from the counter-top beside where I was standing. I had absolutely no idea what it was, until I heard the unmistakeable sound of a scissors opening and shutting a few times. Then I realised. Whether I liked it or not, after this was done to me, I would be one step closer to becoming Seetam's assassin.

The dragon ran his clawed fingers through the long (and, more often than not, annoying) fringe of my short, blonde hair a few times, which I utterly hated. Without really meaning to, I couldn't help but jerk my head away from his reach, only to be roughly pulled back into position again.

That was when I felt Seetam's hand deal a vicious blow to the side of my face, thankfully, miraculously, managing to not scratch it with his long, sharp claws in the process.

"Keep _still,_ damn you!" were the dragon's angry words. He sounded so angry that I again decided the best course of action would be to obey him and not cause him any further trouble. So, without another word, I just let the cruel creature resume his work.

Once again I felt Seetam's claws comb through my hair a few times, before I again heard, slightly more muffled this time, the sound of the scissors opening and shutting in quick succession. I cast my gaze downwards, and saw several strands of light-coloured hair come to rest upon the cold, hard floor. I kept my gaze upon the floor as the sound of the scissors again came, this time taking longer to stop, and, I presumed, taking more off with it. Before I knew it, the dragon had managed to cut off the entire right side of my hair, the longest part, as I could judge by the amount of hair there already was on the floor. But, as I already knew from Seetam telling me earlier, it didn't stop there. No.

Once Seetam had finished with the scissors, and as I was trying to come to terms with the fact that I could actually see out of my right eye for once in my life, he laid the scissors down and picked up what looked like an electric razor from the counter-top. Again he pushed my head roughly forward, switching on the razor as he did so. All I could do was keep my head down and my eyes fixed on the floor as he started running it over what remained of my hair. I could see, from where my gaze was resting, even more separate strands of blonde hair drift down to the floor, more and more falling rapidly as I kept looking. After what felt like less than a minute of this, the floor surrounding me was covered in a small, collected pile of thick strands of light blonde hair – mine – and I knew that Seetam's first task had to be over.

It was.

I heard, behind me, Seetam switch off the electric razor, saying as he did so, in his characteristic low purr, "That's that out of the way, at least." He turned to face me, and paused to take in my new appearance. After a few moments, he placed his clawed hand underneath my chin and tilted my head upwards, so that I was looking him directly in the eye.

"May I say, that I think you are still extremely beautiful, Tamora," he said quietly to me.

"Shut up, you creep," was all I could say in reply. Again. Why did this dragon feel the need to compliment me in such a way? Especially as I now looked very different to the way I had when he had said that to me previously.

What came next was even worse though.

That done, Seetam proceeded to roughly lead me into a smaller room adjacent to the one I had been in (how many rooms did this place have?) which contained a sinister-looking metal table, like an experiment table, with leather straps on it. I swallowed slightly at the sight of the table. I felt sure – _very_ sure – that I wouldn't want to know what it could be used for.

Unfortuantely, that I was just about to find out.

I turned around slightly, and saw Seetam pick up something that looked like a branding iron, in the shape of a pointed S, similar in shape to a lightning bolt, from the counter-top nearest to us. I shifted about nervously, swaying slightly on my feet. I wasn't entirely sure that I really liked the idea of being branded, scarred with a permanent, dark mark, that would, most likely, give me hell for a long while after the procedure had been carried out. Sure, I had numerous official marks on my body already, given to me when I had joined the Space Marines, but they had been tattooed on. _Not_ branded. If they had been, I'd have been used to it.

But I wasn't.

Seetam, roughly straightening my body so that I was standing bolt upright in front of him, used his sharp claws to swiftly tear off my undershirt, leaving me wearing nothing but my bra on top, and, in doing so, exposing the aforementioned official Space Marine tattoos I had on my upper back – the official seal of the Force, which rested neatly between my shoulder-blades, and my official number on my right shoulder. I glanced, a little self-conciously, at the dragon. A look of slight anger flickered across his reptilian face, as he examined the tattoos, and he said to me, "Those marks shall have to be removed. You no longer belong to them. You're my property now."

Really? Was I?

"Removed?" I found myself asking, sounding a little pathetic as I did.

"Yes," was the reply, "but I'll worry about those later." The dragon paused for a brief moment, before continuing, "Yo'll probably be unconscious by then, anyway, if everything goes to plan."

You'll probably be unconscious by then?

That sounded ominous. _Very _ominous indeed. What in the name of Mod did Seetam mean by that? I didn't know, but I already knew that I didn't like what was possibly meant by it.

Not if this psycho had anything to do with it.

I was promptly snapped out of these musings by one of Seetam's scaly hands on the back of my neck, which, I imagined, was really the only free spot on my back that wasn't already marked. Well, it wasn't, but I reasoned that this guy had enough sense to know that the mark would be much more noticeable higher rather than lower.

A sudden feeling of panic swept over me then, taking me by surprise. I tried to wriggle out of the dragon's hold, to escape the inevitable feeling of deep, burning pain that I knew was to come, but this only resulted in Seetam wrapping his hand even more tightly around my neck, almost choking me in the process.

"What did I tell you about trying to escape?!" he roared at me, sounding so angry that all thoughts of escape left my mind. These were replaced with the thought that it might just be better, if I didn't want to end up dead, to keep still and let the dragon get on with his task.

I stopped struggling against his strong grip, and relaxed myself. Well, not totally, as my heart felt as if it was going to burst through my ribs any second, but you get the picture.

"Good," Seetam purred. "Now hold still."

He once again pushed my head slightly forward, and as he did so, I heard what sounded like the crackling of flames somewhere behind me, as well as feeling a small amount of heat. I figured that it must have been Seetam breathing fire onto the branding iron, to get it nice and red-hot and fit for the task.

I was right.

The next thing I knew was the feeling of something _very_ hot close to the skin on the back of my neck, and as I tightly shut my eyes to try and block out the painful sensation I knew was to follow, I felt an extremely hot, heavy metal object being forced down – _hard_ – onto my neck.

The agony! A sharp feeling of unbearable pain quickly shot through me. I couldn't help myself from letting out a harsh scream of agony as the pain became even more unbearable by the second. As Seetam pressed down, even harder, on the iron, I became aware of the sound – and the horrid, acrid smell – of burning flesh. _My_ flesh. It was almost too much for me to bear. I got the feeling that any second, I would slip into unconsciousness – just like Seetam had said.

But I didn't.

After what seemed like (well, to me, anyway, experiencing that excruciating piece of hell) endless minutes of searing, burningtorture, Seetam removed the iron from the back of my neck, leaving a permanent reminder of the agonising ordeal scarring my skin – a dark, S-shaped burn mark. I gritted my teeth together and tried to ignore the relentless pulses of pain that dominated my neck, feeling pretty sure that the area that had been branded would remain _very_ sore – and consequently, hard to ignore – for the next week or so. Probably even longer. This was not helped in any way by Seetam stating, "You are now officially my property, Tamora Calhoun," in that smooth, yet sinister, purring voice of his.

I didn't say anything against that statement. I was far too busy trying, in a futile effort, not to feel the throbbing, burning sensation that was all-too-present at the base of my neck. Perhaps worse than the physical pain, though, was the fact that, whether I liked it or not, I now no longer belonged to the Space Marine Force – I belonged to this freak. Whom I already utterly _detested_.

That thought made me feel a lot worse. A _lot _worse.

But it didn't make me feel as bad as the next painful incident did. Oh no.

The worst was far from over, as it turned out.

After Seetam had applied a damp cloth to the back of my neck, on the branding site (now _that _I found really surprising), which didn't really do anything but send another fresh wave of agony coursing through my skin, he led me over to the sinister metal lab table, the one with the leather straps on it. I shuddered slightly, and, for some reason, the sight of the table brought back Seetam's earlier words - "all your appeal to the opposite sex must be taken away." It didn't take me long to put two and two together. I now knew what he was going to do – and how he was going to do it – and, for perhaps the first real time since I found myself here, I felt terrified. I couldn't help myself. I started shaking, and I don't mean a little. I mean, full-on head-to-toe quaking. I mean, how would _you_ feel?

Seetam must have noticed that I was now practically the human version of jelly, for he said to me, a tad sternly, "Now, let's have none of that, dear Tamora. I've got work to do, and if you keep _that_ up-" he broke off to gesture to where I stood, as a quivering heap, "-you'll ruin it, and most likely cause an unneccessary amount of pain for yourself in the process."

Unneccessary amount of pain? This whole _thing_ was an unneccessary amount of pain, full stop. And that was just so far.

I also understood, all-too-fully, exactly what "work" the dragon had to do – taking away my womanhood. And, even though at times I regretted simply being female, I wasn't sure I'd readily let him do that. But I was shaking far too much by now that I really couldn't do anything but let whatever was about to happen, happen.

However agonising or gruesome that proved to be.

Using his ultra-sharp claws, Seetam swiftly removed the rest of my clothing, shredding whatever pieces remained into tatters in the process, leaving my whole body completely exposed – and vulnerable. Vulnerable to this cruel dragon's wicked methods of torture, intentional or otherwise.

What didn't make me feel any better at this stage was the fact that the dragon was looking my naked body up and down, and, I presumed, admiring it. Self-consciously, I made to try and cover myself, only to remember that my hands were still tightly tied together, with no way of undoing them. Thus, I just had to put up with the dragon's piercing yellow eyes gazing at me, in, you know, _that_ sort of way. Which I _hated_. It would have been bad enough if it was another person, but it wasn't. It was this vile creature who, I presumed, was thinking about me in _that_ sort of way at that moment.

The dragon gave me a slow smile of satisfaction, nodding slightly as he did so (disgusting, really, that he thought of me in that way), as I shifted about nervously, feeling that if he looked at me any longer his gaze would pierce me right through, which frankly would be a blessing, at that moment in time. Then I wouldn't have to put up with what came next.

But I would have to, as it turned out.

Without further hesitation, Seetam slashed through the ropes tying my hands together behind my back. I would have fled at that moment, if it wasn't for the fact that the dragon was quick. _Very_ quick. He grabbed my wrist and held it tightly before I could get away, before roughly pushing me down onto the hard surface of the table, knocking all the air from my lungs. I let out a gasp from the impact as Seetam then rolled me over, so that my whole body was face-up – just the way he needed it to be. After he was satisfied with my position, Seetam fastened the straps tightly around my bare arms and legs, so that any chance of me escaping was now well and truly done for. Whether I liked it or not, it was too late now to try and stop this maniac from carrying out the horrible task.

A sudden thought struck me then. Was this guy going to render me unconscious before he started cutting into me? Or was he just going to – oh no, I didn't like to think about the alternative. My neck was still throbbing – _hard_ – from the branding a few minutes earlier, and the last thing I needed on top of that was more pain. But I knew this guy well enough by now, and I had the horrible feeling that he was going to do things his own way – his own wicked way.

I just had to ask – even if I wouldn't like the answer.

"Are you going to leave me fully conscious while you-" I shuddered. I couldn't, just _couldn't_ bring myself to say it.

Seetam, who had momentarily turned away from me to start walking away, turned to face me, and replied, ominously, "You'll see. I'm sure you will be out cold for most of the procedure, anyway."

I swallowed.

Seetam walked over to the opposite side of the room, where, as I could see, he had a shelf containing several sinister-looking supplies – including a rack, hanging on the wall above the shelf, containing a frightening array of various different shiny, sharp knives. I got the horrible feeling that I knew what their purpose was – and I was right, as I saw the dragon select one of the biggest, sharpest ones he had, a long, serrated, silver knife that looked more like a dagger or sword than a knife, I thought. After inspecting the edges of the knife, he started to sharpen it against the hard, rough wall, sparks flying from the friction, with me stuck there, on the other side, watching, utterly powerless to do anything. Again, I involuntarily shuddered at the thought of what this psychotic dragon intended to do with the chosen blade.

I _definitely_ wasn't looking forward to it.

Once Seetam had decided that the knife was sharp enough and fit for its terrifying purpose, he walked calmly back over to where I was, strapped down helplessly to the metal table. He stopped when he got to me, and looked down at my vulnerable form, giving me a wicked smile as he did so. He looked into my eyes, and as he did, I felt them widen in fear, and my breathing and heart rate increase rapidly, apprehensive at what I knew was to come soon.

"Please don't do this to me. _Please!_" I felt like saying, more than anything in the world, but the only thing that stopped me from saying it was the fact that this psycho would, most likely, not listen to my pathetic outcries, my desperate pleas for mercy.

That, and the fact that the dragon's scaly hand was now lingering on my left breast. Why?

Seetam left his hand there for a few moments, gently rubbing the skin as he did so, which I _really_ could not stand. He continued doing this for a few more moments before saying, quietly, to me, "You really do have the most impressive figure, Tamora. Perhaps it's the best prime model of female anatomy I've ever seen."

_Disgusting._

"It's a terrible pity I have to spoil that."

_You don't have to._

"Then why don't you stop right now?" I asked, or rather, growled, through clenched teeth. "There's no reason that you should tamper with any part of me!" I continued, part of my defiance slowly creeping back. I really hated the feel of the dragon's rough scales so close to – no, _touching_ – my skin, and his claws gently gripping the delicate skin.

Especially on _that_ area of my body.

Seetam momentarily looked a little cross at my defiant outburst, but he just evenly replied, "Oh, but I do have to. You see, other people, especially men, will, most likely, think the same way about you. And then what would you do? You'd probably follow suit, and fall in love with them."

_Yeah, of course I would. _

"Like you did with that scientist, Dr. Brad Scott."

I gasped in shock. Brad, the guy whom I loved more than anything – and lost tragically. How did this guy _know_ about him, and our relationship?

"How dare you-" I started, but I stopped when I saw that Seetam wasn't listening. Instead, he was still blathering on about how important – _not – _this task was.

"That would distract you too much from your duties as an assassin. I need you to be able to focus on the tasks at hand when you start your work for me." Seetam paused slightly, before saying, "No, this must be done."

He gently ran his hand over my left breast, which I really hated, before taking hold of it and raising the sharp blade in the other hand. By now, my heart was pounding so hard that I thought I'd have a heart attack there and then, which would have been a blessing. At least it would have saved me the torture that I knew was about to come.

I looked into the dragon's menacingly bright eyes, my own wide with fear, as if I could tell him to stop, right now, through sheer willpower. Seetam, however, looked just as malicious as ever, possibly even more (sadistic or what?), ignoring my silent, pitiful pleas.

It was clear that he wasn't going to stop now.

He gave me another small smile of malice, before saying to me, in his low purr, "Oh, don't worry. This won't hurt... _much._"

With those ominous words said, the dragon lowered the blade, preparing to cut into me. As I felt the edge of the blade gently touch the skin, I shut my eyes as tightly as I could. The last thing I wanted to see was a psychotic reptilian _thing_ slicing off –

Then I felt it. The sensation of the knife slicing through the skin on my breast – a sharp-edged pain that forced a loud scream of agony to erupt from my mouth. As another harsh cry escaped from my lips, I could feel Seetam cutting deeper and deeper into the flesh, along with a furious river of blood streaming from the severed blood vessels, as the liquid flow of red ran down the side of my body and onto the table, where it dripped onto the floor. I couldn't manage to stop myself from screaming. There was no other way to describe the agony – it was pure torture, torture of the worst kind.

The knife continued to dig deeper and deeper into the flesh, in a steady sawing motion, and as it did so, I couldn't stop hot tears of pain escaping from my still-tightly-closed eyes. If this continued for much longer – I wasn't sure I'd be able to stand much more of it.

Another harsh cry of pain escaped from my mouth, as I felt the knife slice through the internal arteries and veins of my breast, before I managed to make actual words, albeit a little uncomprehensible through my cries, come out.

"Stop it, _please!_" I cried out to the dragon, through a hoarse sob of agony, ignoring the fact that he would, most likely, not pay heed. By now, I could feel that he was nearly finished cutting through my left breast, and that any second now he was going to start slicing off the other one, in the same ruthless, barbaric manner. I wondered if I would even feel that part, the way things were going...

I could feel, at this point, the continuing flow of blood furiously spurting from the open lesion, as it flowed over the edge of the table and into the collected puddle of scarlet that now stained the floor. Well, at least that meant I was still conscious, although frankly, at this point, I didn't want to be. What I would have loved, more than anything in the world, would be to let the kind veil of unconsciousness gently slip over me, calming my body, mind and soul.

But I definitely wasn't calm. How could I be when there was a maniacal dragon sawing away at vital parts of my anatomy? And doing so in the most excruciating way imaginable?

Turns out I wouldn't have to put up with it for much longer.

After what felt like hours on end of pure _suffering_, I suddenly felt the sharp knife slice through the final piece of skin, removing my left breast from my body. _For good._ That didn't mean that the torture was over, though.

I knew that the sight that greeted me would still inevitably count as part of that.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, gritting my teeth tightly together in a futile effort to not feel the terrible, unbearable pain that dominated the left side of my chest, and saw, through my tears of pain, a horible sight.

If you could even say that.

My chest could hardly be seen through the deep crimson blood that now soaked it, especially on the left side, as it continued to pour profusely from the ruptured blood vessels and the gaping hole created by the knife, where my breast used to be. I could also see raw, jagged flaps of skin just barely concealing the bone and tissues inside my chest, especially the bones of my ribcage, under which I thought I saw my heart beating, but I wasn't quite sure. Never in my many years of having to put up with some pretty ghastly injuries and wounds had I seen such a horrible sight. _Never._

I felt my stomach involuntarily heave at the nightmarish sight before my eyes – but not half as much as it did when I saw what Seetam did next.

I glanced nervously at the dragon, starting to feel weaker and weaker as more and more blood drained unrelentlessly from my body, and saw that he was now standing a few paces back from the table. He held his rather-bloodstained knife in one hand, which was now also stained in dark red, the scales no longer blue, and my severed breast in the other, where more blood dripped from it in a steady trickle of liquid scarlet. He ran his tongue over his sharp, white teeth, looked at the discarded lump of flesh – _my_ flesh – before, without further hesitation, placing it in his mouth, chewing it up almost effortlessly when you consider how many veins there must have been in the thing, and swallowing it. Blood dripped from his pointed dragon teeth as he licked it from his lips, and as he did so, I again felt my stomach heave, more violently this time, before a strange, but almost-pleasant feeling of light-headedness cane over me, and I lapsed into unconsciousness...


End file.
